talkative
by envysparkler
Summary: "Because I love you, you annoying girl." - Fudou/Haruna


**a/n:** well, here's my piece to ie.

**dedication:** to love, because it sucks.

**disclaimer:** i'm beginning to hate the color pink.

**summary:** "Because I love you, you annoying girl." - Fudou/Haruna

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**talkative**

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_shut her up with a kiss, make her cry with a smile_

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"You are an assholic jerk, do you know that?"

"Assholic isn't a word," he replied automatically, his eyes never lifting from the report he was reading. He wasn't sure how he made Class Rep – partially convinced it was Kidou's revenge and his mother's guilt – but he had duties, now.

"I made it up," her voice was anger – no, rage. Rage and fury and wrath – never something as mild as anger. "Especially for people like _you_."

"Ouch," he paused from complaints he was perusing to shoot her a glance. It was true he hadn't seen her in awhile – she was a year below him, he had grades to study for, responsibilities to cover, a reputation to maintain – but it was clear she looked worse. Kidou was going to kill him.

Fudou felt a pang somewhere in his chest. When did everything in their relationship start to depend on how Kidou would feel?

She sighed and entered the classroom, hoisting herself onto the desk in front of Fudou's. It was clear that she was weary of their constant bickering and unresolved tension.

"Tomorrow's Valentine's Day," she remarked, off-hand, as she swung her legs to and fro – like a child.

"Did you come here to waste my time by stating the obvious?" Fudou sniped, before he could stop himself. It was too late, and he regretted it, but it was a part of himself. He was too used to insults and sneers and words that cut to the bone and the punches that covered it up.

Fudou knew how to be mean – it wasn't second nature, it was first. He had been mean all his life, he had put others down, ripped apart their hearts, stepped on their lives and laughed. He had never learned how to be nice.

She didn't say anything, but her legs stopped kicking and her shoulders sagged imperceptibly. Fudou – out of the corner of his eye – saw something in her face crumple.

The minutes stretched on as Fudou noted the important suggestions and made a list to present to the Principal. Some stated very interesting points – things he would have to take up personally with the Chairman and Board of Directors. He would have to go to Natsumi again, it seemed.

Fudou made a mental note to call Endou. The fiery redhead was a thousand times easier to deal with when pacified by her oblivious boyfriend.

In the middle of scratching out a suggestion for better food – the cafeteria stocked the finest, courtesy of Ichiraku – he paused, sensing that something was wrong. Casting a quick glance at his watch, he saw – to his surprise – that half an hour had already passed – half an hour in silence.

He looked up to see her still sitting there, staring contemplatively out of the window. Dropping the pencil and paper, he leaned back, giving her his full and undivided attention, "What happened, Haruna?"

Now that he was looking at her properly, he noticed things he hadn't seen before – the circles under her eyes, the unhealthy pallor of her skin – and his eyes narrowed a fraction – the dullness in those aquamarine depths, the way her fingers wound in her hair, tightening until they turned blue.

"Hm," she looked at him as if she was waking up from a trance, "What are you talking about, Akio?" Her eyes were slightly unfocused and she stared at a spot three inches to the left of Fudou's eyes.

Fudou blinked. All thoughts of the reports leaving his mind, he asked gently – afraid of offending, "Is there something wrong?" In his mind's eye, he could see Kidou's violent expression clear as day – then quickly focused on her, guilty.

"Why would you say that?" she laughed – not a normal laugh. It was too high and too sharp and ended far too quickly. She was hiding something – she had been hiding it for a long time, only Fudou was too preoccupied to see what was in front of his own nose.

Fudou debated his answer as she slid off the desk and navigated the rows of seats to the windows. He loved the windows in his classroom – floor to ceiling, they stretched, and offered a brilliant view of downtown Tokyo. However, they were covered in threatening black thunderclouds today, and a grayish light seemed to emit from the buildings.

The rain started to patter against the glass and quickly settled into a soothing rhythm, the sweet smell of earth drifting in from the open window, near the front.

"You're not talking," Fudou finally decided. It was the thing about her that was most identifying – and most irritating. Her ability to infuse the air with the most inane chatter.

Words were her weapon of choice.

Fudou reflected that how sad it was – how both her armor and her weapons had left her – how she had been abandoned of defense and offense.

Haruna stared out the window, stared at her reflection in the glass panes, stared at the abandoned streets and hazy rain. "I thought you didn't like it when I talked. You said it was annoying."

Fudou got up and joined her near the windows. She was overworking herself. He knew that she had taken many college-level courses, that she was piling more and more onto her workload – she had joined various clubs, was the editor of the school paper, buried herself in studies – and no one had been there to stop her.

Or, more specifically, _he_ hadn't been there to stop her. Her friends were too soft to be an influence, her brother was too dense when it came to siblings, her elder friends and family were much more concerned with universities and tuition and the lives that awaited them.

"I said many things were annoying," Fudou joked, trying to get a laugh, "How come you didn't pay attention to the rest of them?" Haruna didn't answer, but idly traced the path of a water droplet as it meandered down the glass.

She needed him – and he had all but forgotten her.

"Will you like me then?" she said – in voice too timid to be her own. In a flash, Fudou realized the insecurities she had tried to keep hidden. "Will everyone like me if I stopped doing the things that annoyed them?"

A tear slid down her cheeks and Fudou had the urge to trace its path, as well.

"Don't be stupid," he said brusquely, unused to this display of emotion. Sure, she was as dramatic as the next girl (and quite possibly _more_) but she had never been one for tearful breakdowns. Fudou wondered what else had changed in these past few months.

"T-Then," Haruna's words choked up in her throat, "Then w-why –" she drew a deep, shuddering breath, "Why does n-no one want to spend _t-time_ with m-me?" She was full-out sobbing now, but the tears flowed silently, the sniffles died in her throat. She may have been hysterical enough to break down in front of him – but she would retain every bit of dignity she had left.

Fudou looked at her sharply at this teary confession. It was true that he hadn't been spending time with her, cancelling their dates or perpetually rescheduling them. Their old friends – the football players – each drifted off into their own schools and cliques.

And she was left all alone, trying desperately to hold on to an unraveling thread.

Fudou lightly touched her shoulder but this time – instead of waiting for her to accept or reject his touch – he pulled her in, wrapping his arms around her, letting her stain his shirt with her saddened cries.

She was warm he saw as he held her protectively, shielding her against the cold wind. He had half expected her to be as frigid as ice, considering her fragile appearance. He breathed in her scent – the unique, smoky smell of lavender candles, the sharp sort of sweet. The smell mingled with the earthy scent of the rain, and filled the empty room with a pleasant sort of fragrance.

He had neglected her for so long – he had forgotten what it was like to hold her in his arms, to protect her. The warm bubble of happiness grew inside of him as he breathed in the intoxicating smell, as her warmth spread.

"Don't be stupid," he repeated, an answer encompassing all her anxious questions, "And I'd rather like it if you start talking again."

A muffled laugh tickled his chest and Haruna looked up at him, smiling slightly, "I thought you found it annoying." Her eyes were red and shining with unshed tears, her hair was unkempt but she had regained a bit of color, and her vivaciousness was gleaming again in her eyes.

Fudou smiled and adopted a serious tone, "It is, but it's far more irritating wondering if something happened to your tongue."

She giggled and he immediately dropped the stern expression, a positively sinister grin spreading on his face, "Although," he dragged out the word, watching as apprehension steal back onto his girlfriend's face, "There are _other_ ways of checking whether or not your tongue is in working condition…"

Grinning slyly, he dove in for the kiss.

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**le fin**

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**a/n: **aww. fudou's a real charmer, ain't he? on a side note: why is it that these formats and styles only work on angst or semi-angst fics?


End file.
